#artless jungle

[weareartless]

Bobby Kumar

My name is Bobby Kumar, I'll be 20 in like a day and I'm a music producer and composer.  I've been writing music since I was 11 and producing since 2007.

As an artist, I like being different. Not because I think that there is something wrong with the mainstream, but because I believe it is necessary to have alternatives to the monotone. Music is, at least for me, is something that must be respected, and that evolution should come out of that respect.

Also, I can't think the same as most people. I have a slew of physical and mental issues I'd rather not bore you with right now. The point is, the way I think is evident in the way I write (well not including the more mainstream stuff I write).

The Artless Jungle is something that intrigued me. I met people over the years who had  alternative views, such as Andre and Ramon, and I wanted to get those views out. That was the reason I joined.

I'd like to mention that starting tomorrow, I'll be releasing four albums. More on that tomorrow

[weareartless]

Crepusculum - (Dusk)

It felt like she stood a lifetime away.  We’ve all been here before I think. Introduced to a place where anything seems possible. A realm on the edge of existence that gives us goose bumps; A place close to home but where we never feel safe; A place where our vulnerability nests soundlessly. Artless Jungle showed Atrum a life within this one where he wouldn’t be judged for his abilities; his art. The light of the setting sun and supernova of stars shone through the painted glass like a prism onto the room like a canvas where two figures stood illuminated like one would imagine gods would be. Her name was Stella Altus.  She tilted her head to the side, an unfeigned curiosity in her eyes, and a tragically beautiful smirk made its way across her lips. There was nothing in her eyes. Her features tactically void of emotion. Opposite the woman stood a young man in the doorway of the room wearing a black motorcycle jacket and a blue t-shirt with an odd symbol on it. Stella couldn’t really make out much from the glare but she knew those crimson eyes. It was Atrum. His rage faded into unbreakable concentration and he closed his eyes. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in every inch of my anxious body and the presence of hers across the room and he wanted to crush it. He wanted to erase her from existence using all his strength; with everything that he was. What governs your soul? It’s your heart, intentions and desires. The extremity of the dark choices Atrum has made up until this point could have led him into treading in the dark or the light but he managed to remain in the grey. He subtracted “what was”, and “what is” and “what will be” became the most fascinating variable leaving him calm. His mind discovered a new consciousness; empty space. Atrum exhaled everything that he was feeling as his feet left the ground with a chilling sensation from the cold marble floor and he opened his eyes to notice her gaze. Stella took her eyes off of Atrum, bored, and had focused them onto the ‘Shinigami’ painting of the Gods and frowned. She hated the ‘Shinigami’ painting that hung so proudly above the church in Atrum’s loft. The reminder of the story of how Izanami, the Death Goddess, was glorified for her emotional bond with humans and reaping their souls free of their body’s to pass on versus the other half of the painting which focusing on Izangi. Izangi cast his lover away to the underworld for her empathy when the Gods were not supposed to. Stella looked back to notice Atrum echoed in front of her as she blinked.

“You remembered,” said Atrum.

He had become a powerful presence. The voice of his soul kindled. It was gentle but was overwhelming with the intensity of how brightly it shone. Atrum landed. She said nothing. She just looked at him. Tears pooled in her eyes, genuine pain, but she was silent and slowly looked down; Atrum noticed and followed her gaze. Past the seas that were her green eyes that her strawberry blonde hair framed, and onto her shaky hands that clutched a dagger made of an unusual black substance. She dug it straight through the mouth of the crest of the ‘Artless Jungle’ organization that Atrum wore beneath his leather jacket, and into his solar plexus where the blade vanished as if melted away. The pain mixed with other sensations rushed straight to his head but he refused to fall to his knees and a scar-like signature appeared on both Stella’s hand and Atrum’s chest.

“What are you?” she said, disgusted; her hair covering her face. His gaze fluidly away from the pool of blood that didn’t rush from the center of his chest and found it’s way back to hers.

“I am Atrum,”

He woke up.

[weareartless]

I'm currently working on my first piece of non-fiction. It's called "Memory card".

A story about a group of 20 year olds that still feel like kids. They start filming themselves out of boredom in hopes of even catching a second of real/raw emotion, something beautiful that would be their own. Something just for them, something they would share together. Oddly enough the writer that started filming due to having writers' block discovers more than he intended. He gets to see his friends from a new point of view, learning more about them, growing closer while discovering himself and what direction he wants to go. He ends up capturing beautiful moments through everyone's lenses only to discover what they all sought, the world. He and his set few friends all filmed whenever they felt it was meaningful and all uploaded it onto David (the writers') MacBook and spliced in the good part. At the end of it all, they put it on a memory card that they turned into one big movie night for just them and it was filled with images of first loves blooming, first times, friend struggles with parents, rent and tuition, fights, break ups, drugs and new paths unfolding. Basically the relationships unfolded and everything makes a total U-turn after everyone saw the movie. We were all kids once. 

[iamatrum-blog]

Book title confirmed.

carpe divum ut atrum/Carpe Divum ut Atrum 

The latin to English translation meaning: Take the black sky/ Seize the Dark Gods

Changing the capitals actually reiterated the meanings. Which do you prefer?

[weareartless]

Artless Jungle is going to be revisited.

AJ is a reference that the main characters of my ‘Atrum’ series make in referral to the time they live in. It is a present void of sympathy. You’re born, consume from your parents, then they leave you be, you get a job and the cycle continues. No big influences. No significant existence. But they use the reference ironically because all of Atrum’s friends have dreams. They all have a purpose. 

So Artless Jungle Studios as a company is me networking. Meeting people, making friends that maybe could use my help to get to their dreams quicker. There is strength in numbers. By meeting these people, im actually linking all of these people together. To everyone that considers themselves apart of the “Artless” family; its not just about success but leaving a legacy, an imprint; your name. So help me make this concept a reality. Lets make the world a place we WANT to live in. We can change it ourselves.

[iamatrum-blog]

Artless Jungle is going to be revisited.

AJ is a reference that the main characters of my 'Atrum' series make in referral to the time they live in. It is a present void of sympathy. You're born, consume from your parents, then they leave you be, you get a job and the cycle continues. No big influences. No significant existence. But they use the reference ironically because all of Atrum's friends have dreams. They all have a purpose. 

So Artless Jungle Studios as a company is me networking. Meeting people, making friends that maybe could use my help to get to their dreams quicker. There is strength in numbers. By meeting these people, im actually linking all of these people together. To everyone that considers themselves apart of the "Artless" family; its not just about success but leaving a legacy, an imprint; your name. So help me make this concept a reality. Lets make the world a place we WANT to live in. We can change it ourselves.

[iamatrum-blog]

Awestruck

Once upon a time, I saw this motherfucking dime.

Now keep your coins, because this girl was a change of pace.

The kind of girl that, if this was the old me, I would have chased.

“A penny for your thoughts ma’am?”

In her eyes, you could see she had high hopes, pipe dreams.

I thought she dreamed of rubber bands and lived on the pole earning dollar bills.

But no, that wasn’t her. She had priceless perceptions of the world we both lived in.

It’s a quarter after 3. Damn I watch her disappear into the crowd, but know she might’ve been the key..

To my heart, far apart, golden brown eyes, match the heart-strings on my golden heart.

My dime’s lost for now, but she’s on a role, so am i.

So I guess I’ll meet her. We’ll meet face to face on the streets of Toronto.

Face-up for good luck.

She’ll be the first to see me, awestruck.

[weareartless]

Awestruck

Once upon a time, I saw this motherfucking dime.

Now keep your coins, because this girl was a change of pace.

The kind of girl that, if this was the old me, I would have chased.

“A penny for your thoughts ma’am?”

In her eyes, you could see she had high hopes, pipe dreams.

I thought she dreamed of rubber bands and lived on the pole earning dollar bills.

But no, that wasn’t her. She had priceless perceptions of the world we both lived in.

It’s a quarter after 3. Damn I watch her disappear into the crowd, but know she might’ve been the key..

To my heart, far apart, golden brown eyes, match the heart-strings on my golden heart.

My dime’s lost for now, but she’s on a role, so am i.

So I guess I’ll meet her. We’ll meet face to face on the streets of Toronto.

Face-up for good luck.

She’ll be the first to see me, awestruck.

(By: AnDre Wright)